


Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Revyn Sadri Learns to Show Gratitude

by DirtyScrolls



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Dacryphilia, Dunmer (Elder Scrolls), Fantastic Racism, Licking, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Men Crying, Mention of Necrophilia, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threats of Violence, lots of anal fingering, some consensual BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls
Summary: The Dragonborn stops by Windhelm and does an attractive merchant a favor.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Revyn Sadri, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Teldryn Sero
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn and the Grey Quarter





	Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Revyn Sadri Learns to Show Gratitude

It was a mild Loredas evening in Riften, and Kordin was enthusiastically fucking Teldryn Sero’s chiseled, freshly-bruised face.

Looking into the mer’s glossy red eyes and gripping the swatch of thick black hair down the middle of his head, he felt like Nirn’s luckiest man. As he used his mercenary’s dexterous mouth, he thought of how he would fuck the “best swordsman in Morrowind” during their next round—on his back? Over the bed? Hands and knees? Should he restrain him?

The Nord pushed himself deep inside Sero’s tightened wet mouth, slapping his chin with his balls. The sensation and the sight of the beaten mercenary on his knees combined to provoke a strong orgasm.

“Swallow all of it, beautiful,” he breathed, stroking Sero’s lips. Sero closed his eyes and obeyed, though there was a little pale liquid bubbling from the side of his thick grey mouth, possibly spit or stray seed.

“Good, very good,” Kordin said, too tired to remark on the leak, brushing over the Dunmer’s lips once more with his fingers. “Get up here.”

The naked mer rose and eased onto the bed with his patron, his sore body relaxing as Kordin massaged his muscular torso, back, and ass, finally teasing his hard prick. Sero usually got fiercely aroused while sucking cock, especially if you slapped him around or whipped him first, and Kordin had done both.

“Love having your mouth full, don’t you?” Kordin murmured, thinking again how lucky he felt, as he slowly jerked his—his own--Dunmer, drawing out moans. 

Suddenly, a rap sounded on the door of Honeyside. Kordin recognized the brisk businesslike knock of a courier.

The Nord uttered a string of curses and reached for pants and a tunic. Lewd thoughts of his naked hireling were rudely pushed from his head. He was glad that at least he’d gotten to come before the interruption.

“I’ll deal with you soon,” he told Sero, extracting a needy whine as he gave him one last slow stroke.

It turned out to be a message from Windhelm. Kordin had to sleep early and set off early the next morning, leaving Sero to guard the empty house. His Riften housecarl was visiting family and Kordin hadn’t intended to leave the Rift for at least a few days. 

As usual, being in the icy, ancient city without the easy outlet provided by his mercenary put him in a disgruntled mood. 

Ulfric Stormcloak needed Kordin for business so tedious the Thane forgot about it almost completely as soon as he left his Jarl’s presence. Of course, half their meeting was taken up with Ulfric’s speechifying (Kordin could think of some highly pleasurable ways to shut the loud, handsome blond up), so it was long past noon by the time he emerged from the palace, a little dazed and a little drunk on mead and wine.

“Have fun in the Grey Quarter tonight,” one of the head guards, a friend, told him as he stepped into the crisp air.

He chortled a greeting, thinking of the respected barkeep Ambarys Rendar bound and begging. 

What his friend knew about, of course, was his penchant for buying the twilight services of good-looking, cash-strapped refugees. Kordin was unsure what his fellow Nords would think of his other—well--excesses with the elves.

“Oh, I intend to,” was all he said.

Kordin hadn’t expected to do a favor tonight, but he’d jumped at the chance to ingratiate himself to the silver-tongued mer who kept the Grey Quarter’s best-known pawnshop. All because of a misunderstanding—he’d bought a stolen ring by mistake, and who better than a master thief to secretly return it for him?--Revyn Sadri had fallen unsuspecting into the Nord’s clutches. 

Looking the slim, sharp Dunmer up and down and up again, Kordin smiled in a way he hoped was more friendly than desiring.

“Yes, right back in the drawer. Just like you asked.” he assured Sadri. “And I won’t breathe a word to anyone about ‘questionable’ goods.”

Kordin had regretted not having time to fuck Geldis Sadri properly before he and Sero had left Raven Rock, but he’d always taken pleasure in the sight of this other Sadri, this overworked pawnbroker, and wondered what it would be like to take him and make him unravel. Mer always seemed to grow older just like the pricey wine on Ulfric’s table, and Revyn Sadri was no exception, in temptingly fine middle age. The man would be excellent compensation for what Kordin had missed out on. 

Sadri’s glittering eyes crinkled in concern. He had come around the front of the counter to greet his rescuer, his expression kind. His hair was spiked up in a way that reminded Kordin of Ralis Sedarys, the delicious, half-crazy mer he had wasted so much coin on before having him. With Sadri standing close, Kordin was feeling more and more eager, his belly hot with anticipation. 

“You’re sure no-one saw you?”

“As sure as I can be.”

“I can’t possibly tell you how grateful I am.”

“Apparently you can. You’ve said it three times so far. And I already told you, you don’t need to pay me.” 

Kordin held up the pouch of gold the merchant had pressed on him.

“No, no. I truly insist,” Revyn Sadri said, raising his gracile hands in protest. “You took a great risk for me. How else could I make that up to you?”

Kordin reached behind him and locked the door with a muted click.

The Nord held out hope that Sadri, who was clearly only getting by by the skin of his teeth, would feel indebted and give himself willingly. But he was ready for any reaction. Forcing him would be a different kind of fun.

“Sera, the shop is still--”

“I can think of something much better than gold you could give me, if you really want to show your thanks.”

Kordin took a large step forward, backing Sadri into the worn wooden counter, ready to pen him in.

“I--I don’t have any jewels now, nor jewelry, nothing enchant--”

“Not what I mean, and you know it, elf.” Kordin traced his long jaw, then ran a finger down along the merchant’s razorlike cheekbone. Sadri was frozen. “I mean, you’ll keep me company tonight. Maybe show me what else you can do with that persuasive mouth, after you convinced me to go off and put my reputation in danger.”

But it looked like Sadri wasn’t having it. Force, it would have to be.

“I gave you fair payment.” Sadri drew himself up, placing a hand on the iron dagger at his trim waist. “I insist you accept it and leave me.”

“Or what? You’ll gut me? With that?”

“I might manage. Anyway, I’ll call for the guards. Leave. Now.”

“You know they won’t come.” Kordin stepped closer, smelling the musk of Sadri’s soap or some kind of oil. “Now, c’mon, show me how grateful you can be.”

Sadri shrank away, shaking his head.

“If I’m loud enough, they’ll investigate the noise. The neighbors certainly will.”

“I don’t think you’ll have that chance.”

The lamplight caught Sadri’s brilliant crimson eyes as they flicked to the Daedric dagger which was all of a sudden at his neck. He swallowed, smooth lean throat against the blade. Arousal spiked in Kordin’s groin.

“Drop yours on the floor,” Kordin ordered, his voice growing lower as he pressed the honed metal to the vulnerable grey flesh. 

Sadri’s look of absolute terror made him increasingly more appealing by the second. His lush mouth was open, his sparkling eyes wide. With a few careful movements, his dagger clattered to the dusty boards.

“Thank you, gorgeous. Wasn’t that easy? Now let’s get you into the bedroom.”

As he walked Sadri toward the lighted doorway off the main shop, he poked his lean back with the dagger-point through the thin, soft cloth, thinking of how it would feel to plunge it into him, between two ribs, how the blood would darken the fabric. How Sadri would cry out, writhe, fall helpless in his arms. How fragile the smaller body felt, would feel, under him.

“Down on the bed, my love,” Kordin ordered, “On your back, so I can see that handsome face.”

Stiffly, Sadri did as he was told, eyes closed, mouth pressed shut.

“Open your eyes up. And your mouth.” Kordin ran a finger over the Dunmer’s dark lips. “So sweet and soft.” He kissed him. “Now we’d best get those clothes off.”

He considered cutting them off, as he had Rendar’s clothes, but decided he would enjoy making Revyn Sadri complicit in his own humiliation instead. 

“Help me unbutton these. Good boy.”

Dagger still in his right hand, he used the other to flick open a few of Sadri’s buttons, as the man struggled to obey him with long trembling fingers. There was high red color now in his sharp grey cheeks. Flushed and scared--that was how the normally-unruffled merchant looked his best.

Soon they had Sadri’s shirt off, and Kordin was running one powerful hand over the trim torso, the other still on his dagger-hilt. Sadri’s flesh was a light, even-toned grey. The Nord wondered again how the blade would look in it. 

“Stay there, beautiful. Or get stabbed. Either is good for me.”

Sadri chose to lay on his bed, hands gripping the stead, breathing deeply as if to calm himself. And was he muttering prayers to his Three? The Nine? How sweet it looked, whatever it was.

Kordin went to get two strong leather strips from his bag. They had worked well enough on Sadri’s neighbor Rendar, and Sadri’s build was thinner. He secured the Dunmer’s slim wrists to the bed-head, watching his shirtless body flex as he wriggled against the discomfort of the bonds. Small muscles stood out in his arms and shoulders.

“Sorry, my dear, but I can’t have you getting desperate and going for this.” He held up his dagger. “I need to have you nice and still.”

Kordin began to undo Sadri’s pants, and Sadri indeed stayed still, except for allowing Kordin to lift his legs in his quest to strip him totally. 

The Nord again ran his hands over his new acquisition, as if he were an expensive piece of stolen art, moving from the indent in his smooth-shaved cheeks down to his graceful clavicles, his flat belly, his thin sinewy legs and lissome feet. His prick was entirely soft, to Kordin’s slight disappointment. Still, he could hardly complain. Revyn Sadri was compact and lean everywhere, and his hands and feet were simply exquisite.

Kordin’s wide smile returned. He glanced at Namira’s ring glinting on his own strong finger. 

“You’re lucky I don’t just fucking eat you,” he remarked. “You’d make a fine little snack.”

“Please, sera...” The elf shut his eyes, opened them again quickly, and shook his head, as if trying to wake from a bad dream. “Don’t do this. Just take what’s in the strongbox and leave me be.”

“What if this sweet grey body,” Kordin pinched his prey’s upper right thigh, “is worth as much to me as gold?”

“Just take the money, please. I-I won’t tell anyone you were here.”

“Nothing you offer will compare to what I want.” The Nord kissed the shivering merchant on the lips. “And it’s not as if anyone cares what I do with you. To anyone who matters, you’re nothing but cheap knife-eared trash.”

When he pulled away, there were tears slipping down Sadri’s face. His red eyes glistened, spilled over afresh. Kordin licked up the salty drops, then kissed each of Sadri’s leaking eyes.

“Now to use that mouth,” he said, pulling away and speaking against the tapered, pretty ear. 

Kordin got up, straddled Sadri’s chest and shoulders, undid the fine pants he’d worn for his earlier audience with the Jarl, and let his stiff prick smack the Dunmer man in the mouth and chin.

“I think you know what to do.”

“I-I—er—please...” He trailed off.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re speechless now. And don’t tell me you’ve never done this. Last grey-skin slut who said that was a fucking liar. What are you, two-hundred-something? And you’ve looked as good as you do all that time, and no one’s ever--”

“Not like this. I beg you.”

“Open up,” Kordin demanded, “I’ll cut your throat if you bite, and I don’t think you want to know what I’ll do with you after that.”

Sadri shuddered and reluctantly opened his plump lips, and Kordin slid his cock in. He didn’t want any vomit on himself or his good pants, so he was more careful than he’d typically be with the accommodating and experienced Sero. Still, Sadri was able to take in enough to feel rather good. The Dunmer had taken seriously his warning about teeth. His mouth was a bit loose, but hot and wet, and occasionally Kordin felt a vibration as Sadri suppressed a sob or other distressed sound.

While he pumped the elf’s mouth, he looked down at his fine, thin, strained face and his damp, dazzling eyes and enjoyed the picture the mer’s suffering made. He used his spiky hair as a handle.

Soon, too soon, things became overwhelming for Kordin, and he pulled out of Revyn Sadri’s sultry mouth and sat back on the elf’s lean chest. He leaned forward and stroked his wide jawline, smiling at him.

“Good enough job, though I believe you when you say you’ve never done that before,” Kordin laughed. 

He moved to sit to the end of the bed and gazed down at the bound Sadri, sighing in contentment and anticipation. Again, slowly, he caressed his captive’s long legs, his shapely ankles and feet, then moved back up, stopping suddenly to knead the firm flesh above his bony knee.

“Spread those legs,” he ordered, slapping the inner thigh sharply. 

Sadri opened his legs gingerly, bracing his feet on either side of the mattress. His cock was still flaccid, partially hiding in a dark bush of hair. There was a floss of the same dark hair in his crack. 

“Raise them up. Grab your ankles.”

Sadri did it without meeting Kordin’s eyes, his face rosy.

“Oh. Just delicious. Now keep them like that.”

Kordin visited his bag again and returned with the oil he always carried for such fortunate occasions, and more leather straps, which he used to tie each of the elf’s lithe legs to his wrist bonds, so they were stuck uplifted and spread, showing off his thighs, genitals and every part of his ass. Kordin wished he’d thought to tie Rendar that way.

“Gods, you are so damn lovely,” the Nord whispered, roving with his mouth over the other man’s ear and cheek.

The mer in his trussed, humiliated position, legs splayed, ass open, his entire body helplessly on show—it all made Kordin impatient, but he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t lubricate him enough for his own pleasure.

Kordin took a generous amount of oil and began smearing it around the ring of Sadri’s exposed hole, admiring it as he stroked. The orifice was a dark purplish-pink, very small and clean-looking—he regretted oiling him right away instead of licking the pretty pucker a bit first. The Dunmer’s prick was still uninterested in the proceedings. Kordin slicked an oily hand over it, getting no reaction. So he returned to preparing Sadri’s asshole for invasion. 

After oiling the rim of Sadri’s tight opening, he probed it with his forefinger, eliciting a pained cry as he drove in to the knuckle.

“Quiet. I won’t be happy with you if I have to gag you. I want to see your whole face.”

Sadri pressed his mouth shut in a thin, agonized line as the finger slid in. 

“By Sithis, you’re tight as a virgin Bosmer. Guess you don’t ‘buy and sell just about anything’. You’d probably make some impressive coin if you did.”

Revyn Sadri’s face got even redder, the blush creeping down his neck to his upper chest. 

“I suggest you relax. I’m going to need to widen you up quite a bit for my cock.” Kordin smiled wickedly. “You ever take Nord cock before?”

Sadri shook his head, the blush deepening.

“Ever take any cock before?”

Another shake of the head. Sadri’s face and torso had a light sheen of sweat, though the room was drafty.

Kordin twisted his finger inside the helpless man, making him gasp sharply and strain against the leather straps. 

“I believe it.” He laughed again. "This should be fun.”

“Please, please,” Sadri whispered, “Just not so hard. If you’re going to do this, just please--”

Kordin smiled down into the mer’s big, miserable ruby eyes.

“Relax, and lemme get your cherry ass ready.”

Sadri continued to blush furiously and his eyes closed in shame. Still, he seemed to try to loosen his muscles, which resulted in his legs parting further. 

Kordin reached over and swatted him backhand across the upper cheekbone. The skin where he’d hit him turned pale, then flushed brighter than the rest of the mer’s face.

“Keep those eyes open,” the Nord ordered, “I like seeing them. Especially when you cry. Which I think you’re going to be doing more of.”

Sadri closed his mouth tightly, breathing in through his nose.

The Nord slid in a second finger beside the first, getting knuckle deep before Sadri groaned, thrashing his head to one side.

“I bet that burns,” Kordin taunted.

“Wait… just a minute, please. Let me—let me get used to it.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Kordin let his fingers rest inside the warm, slicked-up hole, and bent forward to run his tongue along the sole of the elf’s elegant left foot. 

Sadri jumped a little, causing Kordin’s fingers to poke further inside him. 

His prick remained soft. Kordin would have loved to see it erect, to fondle and tease it.

He kissed along Sadri’s belly and chest and then lingered on his neck, opening his lips and nibbling with increasing zeal. He gave him an especially sharp, deep bite on the soft skin beneath his ear. 

“That’ll leave a mark. What are you gonna tell your customers?” he asked, “That you were the Thane’s whore last night?”

He sucked a lurid red-purple welt into the elf’s pale grey throat. The result reminded him of a brand. 

“This looks so good against your gorgeous skin,” he said, kissing the mark as he begun to insert his second finger all the way into the merchant’s snug passage. He kissed Sadri on the lips, and the man moaned his pain into his mouth.

“So fucking sweet,” Kordin murmured. He pawed the man’s balls and unresponsive cock gently with his free hand. “Ready for another finger? I think you are.”

Without waiting, he wriggled his third finger past the stretched ring and into the hot opening. Sadri gritted his teeth and tossed his head back.

“You’ll be the tightest thing I’ve ever had, I think.” 

As he allowed a moment for Sadri’s asshole to adjust to the girth of his three large callused fingers, he trailed kisses from his neck up to his left ear and began to suck on the pointed tip. Sadri wiggled in the straps and trie to move his head away.

Kordin chuckled. 

He bit the flared shell of Sadri’s ear hard enough to leave another mark, making the mer inadvertently writhe his ass onto Kordin’s fingers. The pain of this movement provoked a long gasp. Kordin squirmed his oil-slimy fingers against each other in the hole, stretching it, while he continued to kiss and bite at both of Sadri’s ears. Sadri moaned in protest at the relentless stimulation of his ears and the brutal intrusion in his tender asshole. 

When Kordin looked, the Dunmer’s strained little ring was flushed dark red around his fingers. He licked his lips.

Now Kordin slid out, feeling the hot suck of the tight passage on his digits. With his other hand, he traced the elf’s frightened face.

“I’m going inside you now,” he whispered gruffly into his spit-wet ear. “Best relax.”

“Please don’t. I’ll do whatever else--”

“I’m afraid nothing else will suffice, my dear.”

Kordin re-positioned himself and worked his hard prick slowly into the hot pinch of Sadri’s anus. It was snug and well-slicked. When the merchant opened his mouth, Kordin covered it, wishing vaguely that Sadri would turn out to be a biter.

“Keep quiet or I’ll gag you. And if you make me do that, I’ll have to punish you for it later.” Kordin smiled at the thought. “You don’t want a whipping on your well-fucked ass after I’m done with it, do you?”

Sadri shook his head vigorously. 

“So be quiet.”

Kordin braced himself on the bed on either side of the elf and inched the rest of the way inside him, till his balls touched Sadri’s spread ass. The passage was a vice-grip around his shaft. He was glad for the oil. After a few seconds, he begun to thrust, slowly but firmly at first, going deeper and deeper and faster into the mer’s hot guts each time. 

“So fucking tight,” he said, jerking his hips into Sadri, who seized in shock, “And such a gods-damned handsome little thing. Definitely worth more than a bag of gold.”

Sadri made no sounds other than low groans, but his face was nearly purple with pain and the exertion of not crying out. Silent tears welled in his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. Kordin lapped the liquid as he continued to speed up his thrusts. The well-prepared hole hugged his prick perfectly, surrounding it with a delectable friction.

From his angle, Kordin could see everything he wanted, from the violated Dunmer’s sweaty and tear-filled face, down to to his own prick moving in and out of the tenderized pucker, and Sadri’s sack and soft cock swinging and swatting against his flat grey abdomen with each driving thrust. 

Revyn Sadri trying not to sob as he took his first cock was one of the most erotic things he’d ever watched. 

Arousal washed over Kordin in waves, eroding his self-control. He slammed into Sadri once, twice, three times, again, again, hearing the moist smack of flesh and the choking sound the Dunmer made as he caught a scream in his throat. Kordin pulled almost all the way out, and then shoved back in to the hilt, repeated the motion, using the mer’s body to take himself to heights of ecstasy. 

When he came inside Sadri—too soon for his tastes, as usual--he leaned down to kiss his trembling wet mouth, one hand tangled in his hair.

“Sithis. You took that well,” he breathed into the mer’s ear. “You should be proud.”

As he pulled out, he watched his seed leak from Sadri’s dark distended hole onto the bed. The merchant was breathing hard. Droplets of sweat dripped down his face and neck, and his eyes looked blurry from crying. His hair was a chaotic mess from being grabbed.

Kordin made himself decent, retrieved his Daedric dagger, then untied his captive’s legs and arms. Once freed, Sadri lay limply across his bed, his face turned away from Kordin, lovely red eyes focused on nothing.

“Don’t move till I’ve left the store,” Kordin warned, raising the dagger, “You’ve got me tired out, but not too tired to use this.”

Sadri nodded, his expression distant.

Kordin went into the main area of the shop, backing away from the bedroom so he could watch Sadri, stunned and still. When he was satisfied the elf wasn’t going to try anything, he turned to the counter, picked up the pouch of gold Sadri had originally offered, put it in his bag, and slipped out into the street. 

As far as he knew, no one saw him.


End file.
